A few years ago I wrote a journal entry here about my wife and her battle with cancer. I received emails and messages from lots of folks expressing the fact that they took inspiration from what I wrote. People wanted to know how she was doing. People were inspired by my obvious love for this woman and my pride in her brave struggle against this terrible disease.
The truth is very rarely as beautiful as the things we like to write down.
I remember how fragile she seemed as the chemo treatments coursed their way through her body.
I remember hiding away when her hair started falling out so she wouldn't see the tears I could no longer fight back.
I remember imagining my life without her if she lost the fight, and how horribly empty it seemed.
I remember watching her sleep; the steady rise and fall of her chest as her body fought for every breath
I remember touching her face lightly with my lips while she dreamed.
I remember telling her I would love her forever...and meaning it with all my heart and soul.
Her hair grew back in and the color returned to her face. The bandages came off and once again there was a future I could stand to consider.
How is a person supposed to react when their spouse says something as horrible as "I don't love you anymore"? How is one supposed to cope when those words come on the same day the bandages come off and the healing process is finally complete? How can the human mind comprehend something as horrible as the fact that the person you love the most has used you, and once your usefulness is at an end they intend to cast you aside?
And so I've continued to live without her after all, and it turns out it is possible to find happiness after such an horrific event. For anyone out there who is reading this and going through the worst period of their life, trust me that it will get better. Embrace the world and find happiness again. We are here for only a little while, and it seems a shame to waste precious seconds dwelling on things that keep us from smiling.
In the end, all of us are warriors.